I am back from NOLA where my oncologist and I have “concocted something,” as he promised. I love this man. He thinks outside the box. If you come by my house you will see a new flag flying.
In times like these, “It is better to be a pirate, then to join the navy” – Steve Jobs.
My eye patch is now firmly in place. Getting the elixir was a huge multi-national challenge. How odd no one wants to give a guy with stage 4 prostate cancer an overdose of testosterone. What could go wrong?
And an injection of the stuff? Doctors are still running away from me with their fingers in their ears. But there are other ways to administer this hormone.
Even my amazing insurance company bailed on me. Cash only this time. But I got the juice. Apparently, there are also “alternative methods of procurement.” Brad Christy, you would have been proud.
I am indebted to some amazing people who are willing to think outside the box and go the extra mile for a desperate man. Yes, there was one person who tried to sell me my supply at black market pricing.
She relented after I played the cancer card and ended up giving me two months supply for free. That was enough penance for me to forgive her.
Safely across state lines and back home again, what is going on now, Ed? Well, I am “undergoing treatment,” as they say in the medical world.
And, yes, this is all being done under a doctor’s supervision for all you medical people freaking out right about now. Prescriptions were also used, not guns. Guns were available, if needed, however.
This is me filling my testosterone hot tub where I am currently marinating for several days. If you come to see me, please do not stumble and fall into it. The dosage is enough to get this jet to fly again.
Yes, this a cowling off of a jet engine purchased at a salvage yard. It may not be pretty, but this is a low-budget operation and the testosterone would have eaten through a kiddie pool in 5 seconds flat.
No, the water is NOT heated. Betsy thought the cold water would keep me in a state of “suspended animation” as I eased into a testosterone-filled life again (oddly, she has also locked me out of the house and won’t answer the doorbell).
I’m three days into my first 10 day soaking, so it’s early on. So far, here are the results I have noticed:
- I have not died (this was mentioned as a possibility).
- I have not had such “extreme pain that I need to be hospitalized” (also mentioned as a possibility).
- I feel sharper and clearer of mind.
- My energy level is increasing.
- I’m beginning to feel like I have a masculine soul again (this is simply glorious).
- Last night at 4am I awoke, singing, “Let it be” at the top of my lungs. Seriously. I have no explanation to offer.
Is it working? It’s way too early to tell. I will do three 10 days on, 20 days off cycles. We will measure my testosterone and PSA levels every 10 days.
Remember, this is not FDA approved. This is not even a clinical trial. This is a “Hail Mary” – the sort of pass you throw when you are out of time and behind in the game.
Sometimes the amazing happens and you win the game against all odds. But you have to throw the pass.
When God brought the Israelites out from Egypt and into the desert, they ran right into the Red Sea on the path He laid out for them. How silly of God to become so geographically confused.
The confusion became deadly, though, when they heard the approach of Pharaoh’s army. They were trapped in an impossible situation. A hostile army behind them; a sea in front of them. Their response was to complain bitterly (with biting sarcasm I so relate to and appreciate):
“Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die?”
– Exodus 14:11a
They were in deep shit. Only God could save them from where only God had put them. Hmm. And then this:
Then the LORD said to Moses, “Why are you crying out to Me?
Tell the Israelites to move on.”
– Exodus 14:15
Hahaha! Move on to where, God? Their options were severely limited, unless they did something crazy. So they walked, 600,000 strong, right into the Red Sea.
Folks, if I stand still in this place and simply complain and grouse, I will not be the man I am called to be in this situation. Therefore, I am “moving on.” You may think that this time, for real, I have gone over the edge. Well, I have.
I am stepping over the edge of convention into my own Red Sea. Will the waters part? I don’t have a clue. And, frankly, I don’t really care. I just want one thing to be able to be said, however this ends up:
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
– the Apostle Paul
For an added bonus, you can add this,
“He never joined the navy; he had too much fun being a pirate.”
Stuart Scott understood this better than anyone in his life and now his death:
He was a pirate, also, and my inspiration.